Who is Elfhelm?
by B.C. Sabre
Summary: Elfhelm struggles to disguise her true identity as a woman because she must lead her Rohirrim into the most perilous battle of all... When a man from her past arrives unexpectedly and she gets a trip down memory lane.
1. Chapter 1 No

**Ch. 1 - No**

It was late at night when she finished her rounds and made her way back to her own tent, a shaggy brown thing, ineffective against the cold winds blowing from the east. Her fingers were trembling slightly, but she hid her weakness until she was done accounting for her troops. They had all made the ride to the assembly of the army much more quickly than she had expected of them, and all had made it safely. With any luck, it would take just another day to fully assemble the Rohirrim. Just one more day until they rode to Minas Tirith. Only one more day... until they rode to certain death.

Sitting down on the small cot provided for her, she removed her gloves, which had masked her shaking hands. The woman smiled at her hands. They were not the hands of a woman. Calluses decorated them thoroughly; they were riddled with the shadows of old scars and they possessed a well conditioned strength. They were browned from long days under the sun, and they smelled horrendously of horses.

She relaxed her shoulders slightly, and kicked off her boots. Yet she did not remove her helm. A man's voice pricked her delicate ears and from what she could tell he was maybe twenty yards away.

"Where might I find your captain?" the man demanded of someone nearby.

"Our captain Eomer is not available this night…" said a man with voice with a higher pitch than most, one that she identified as coming from a man she knew named Eoghad.

The man of the first voice sighed heavily and the woman noticed that his accent was not that of the people of Rohan. "Who else of higher rank is available?"

Eoghad paused momentarily but offered "Elfhelm, our colonel, should be in his tent- there."

"That is a strange name for one to bear. I do not remember him…by that name. Is there any other name by which this Elfhelm has been called?"

"Not to his face nor behind his back. Elfhelm is all."

"Is he a strange man to be called such a strange name?"

"Well, sir, that would depend on your account of 'strange'. His ears are slightly pointed- elfish in fashion. But he's just a normal man. Never takes his helm off, is all. Just a funny habit. But he's a good man; a good leader."

"Thank you for your assistance. I'll have to be getting on now." The man said and his footsteps crunched audibly towards the tent. The raucous caused by the men in the surrounding camp was not enough to drown out his footsteps.

The woman slipped her boots and her gloves back on and waited patiently for the man to enter. Whoever the man was, he passed inspection from the guards and entered the tent cautiously.

The woman observed the man carefully. He appeared to be in his forties. His frame was lean but strong, and his clothes were worn from travel. Dark hair hung at his shoulders in waves, and dark stubble embraced his face. His eyes were a steel grey, slightly sunken into their frames, but peering out at the world with a calm alertness. He was a man whom some would have considered handsome, but he carried a haunted look about him, and his lips were twisted into a half smile/ half grimace- as though he were half- heartedly flinching away from some minor attack.

He peered back at her curiously. He thought- for a man, what a short stature! His build was strange and irregular, though his armor was made to fit him well. Sharp green eyes inspected him with scrutiny, but most of his face was hidden by a helmet. The person in the tent stood slowly to greet him.

"Hail, are you the one they call Elfhelm?"

"Yes…" the woman replied in a strange voice.

"I am Anourir son of Dain of Gondor."

Elfhelm's eyes flickered momentarily, then she held his gaze. She stiffened slightly. Her hands were trembling, but not from the cold. _Anourir son of Dain of Gondor?_ This was impossible, she told herself. Impossible, improbable, _inconceivable_….

"Do you bear news from Gondor?" she inquired flatly.

"I have not been of Gondor for a year at least. I happened to be traveling through this area on my way south, in my journey, when I came across this assembling army. I have learned that a great evil assails Minas Tirith, the city of my birth. If now you are riding to their aid, I will offer my services to you, if I would be allowed to join with you."

Elfhelm struggled to keep herself under control. Her chest felt as if to burst and one word tore itself from her throat against her will:

"No."


	2. Chapter 2 Dead Fathers

**Ch. 2- Dead Fathers**

"No."

As the disguised woman said the word, her cool indifference faltered slightly.

Anourir raised an eyebrow. Elfhelm steadily regained control of herself and there was an awkward silence before Anourir chanced to speak again.

"Ah, maybe you mistake my intentions."

"No." she repeated firmly, shaking her head to enforce her descision.

"I will have you know, sir, I am not of lowly birth-"

"I know. I know. I knew…your father." She said gently.

"Then you must know why I am obligated to defend my city."

"You are _obligated_ to continue on your way and save your life." She said with a tone of harshness.

Anourir paused momentarily. His brow wrinkled and his eyes flamed. Elfhelm gazed over him, wondering what had become of the young man she had met so many years ago. She had remained mostly unchanged since their last meeting, but Anourir seemed older, sadder.

"Please tell me what is afoot in the southern lands. I have not been to my home in some time. These darkened skies coming from beyond the Anduin worry me. I am no master of lore but I can sense some evil has awakened. Why does Rohan ride to Gondor's aide?"

Elfhelm sighed and took a seat. "Please, seat yourself." She said tiredly. He followed her instructions and took a seat a few feet away from her.

"As you well know Gondor has been attempting to hold Osgiliath at the river for many years." Anourir nodded to this- he had never enlisted to fight, but he knew well of Gondor's army.

"A new evil comes from the place they once called Minas Ithil. They were…not able to hold the Anduin."

Anourir turned pale and swallowed thickly at this.

"We received the Red Arrow a day ago."

Anourir lost yet another shade of color from his face and his eyes darkened. He closed his eyes and Elfhelm could see the wheels turning behind them, the calculations being fearfully drawn. By now or dawn at the latest, Gondor would be laid under siege by forces pouring out of Minas Ungol. Osgiliath had been the last and most strongly maintained outer defence in the south- east. If they had broken through that…She shuddered slightly at the thought of Minas Tirith's pure white walls marred with unholy devices, it's cobblestone streets dirtied with the blood of the innocent…

"I understand the danger." Anourir said finally in a dangerously quiet voice. "But I still wish to accompany you."

"I cannot allow it."

"Why? I will follow behind in any case if you will not have my company. Do you hold some grudge against me, or my father?"

A change came over Elfhelm that was visible outside even her helm. She could feel tears welling up behind her eyes, but refused to let them spill out. "No…" she choked. "I will not allow the son of Dain to share the fate of the Rohirrim." She muttered a word under her breath, one that Anourir did not recognize. It sounded foreign, but filled the tent with a sense of power, of resilience.

Anourir thought to himself: _There is something strange about this person. My father never mentioned in all his life being friends with a strange man as this, and he had little relation with the people of Rohan. _

"If you knew my father so well, I am sorry to report that he no longer lives. He became ill three years ago and passed away shortly after…" Anourir stopped when he saw the effect of his words on the warrior in front of him.

Elfhelm was deathly silent, unmoving. She was shaking with the effort to control her voice and appearance. "I'll have to ask you. To leave. Now. It is late. I have things. To attend to." She said through gritted teeth.

A guard appeared at the doorway and gruffly escorted Anourir outside. As he left, he swore he could have heard the sound of muffled sobbing inside the tent.

Inside the tent, Elfhelm had removed her helm and was unabashedly crying. She had just lost a man who had been more of a father to her than her own blood. The first man to have ever shown her kindness, who took her in as a runaway, and later as an orphan.

The bearer of that news had been his only son, her first and closest friend, who did not even recognize her. The boy she had regarded as being a brother. Who had turned into a man… who had not recognized her even though…

…even though he had claimed to have loved her.

thank you EruntaleofRohan for the review... yes I created this character some time ago to use for LotR Rp ing and decided that it would be interesting to write about the story of her life up until the battle of Pellenor, which is the only time that character is ever really mentioned in the books. I thought it was a strange name that could possibly have a strange story to it...so I elaborated. Hope you enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3 Waking Dream

**Ch. 3 – Waking Dreams**

Anourir sighed and gave the Rohirrim camp another look over. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise and he turned to see Eoghad, watching him intently. He smiled and started to turn, but Anourir stopped him.

"Wait!" He said, trotting over to the aging soldier.

"So he told you to go home, did he? Hah…"

"Yes, he did. Old man, are you sure you don't know that man by any other name? This is important."

"Don't get upset now. No, he's refused to give any name other than Elfhelm. Why?"

"He just…reminds me of somebody I knew once. It's…uncanny…" Anourir shook his head. _No…it couldn't be. It was impossible- improbable- inconceivable…_

"When did Elfhelm first start fighting with the Rohirrim? Where does he come from? The Rohirrim speech is not the only tongue he is familiar with."

Eoghad shrugged. "He found us one day, orc- hunting. He joined up with us and tagged along for a while. He's a damn good fighter, that one- for as young as he was he earned our respect. Fearless. Totally unafraid of death. He followed Eomer when he was exiled from Rohan, but returned at the battle of Helm's Deep. After that he got promoted to where he is now, although they had to twist his arm to get him to accept the position. But he only talks when he has to. Nobody's been able to get anything out of him."

Anourir nodded. "How many years ago did you first see he- him?"

"Less than ten years. He doesn't look that old, does he? Let's see…well maybe it's been more than ten years. Yes, a little longer than ten years. Why are you so interested in him, my friend?"

But now Anourir's eyes were flaming with anticipation, and he had no more patience for talking with Eoghad. He pivoted and started back towards the doors of the tent. He stopped short. "Well…this could be embarrassing. I suppose you are marching tomorrow. What if I'm wrong? I could deprive him of valuable rest…if it's not who I think it is…"

Eoghad laughed. "I don't think you'll have to worry about waking him up. He doesn't _sleep_."

Anourir's mouth dropped open.

_Impossible…_

Inside the tent, Elfhelm's eyes were clouded over, and she lay on her cot in a daze. Sleep

had again escaped her. It was what allowed her to keep her identity a secret, always being able to be on guard. But she wished with all of her heart that just for once, she would be able to let go of consciousness, slip into forgetful sleep. Just once, dreams would overcome the ghosts that haunted her daily. Just for once, she could feel human.

_But you're not human…._

_Flashback_

_A young girl stood at a door of an adjoining room. Her room was dark, and she peered into the candle- lit living room without being seen Outside, hail could be head bouncing dully off the roof The girl was immune to the horse smell of the stables adjoined to the small house, but the stink of alcohol flooded her senses. _

_Her father sat in a chair in a corner of the room, staring with bloodshot eyes into the crackling fireplace. A keg was only a few paces from him, and his half- empty mug had spilled ale onto his table. He hiccupped, then leaned over to a corner and started retching. _

"_Daddy!" the girl said, breaking her silence and opening the door a sliver more. She could not have been more than eight years old. Her long, blonde and brown hair was neatly braided, and her ears were tucked behind the folds to hide their length. Her dark green eyes shone with worry for her father._

"_Stay away!" he screamed madly, hurling his mug at the girl. She ducked behind the door and it ricocheted away from her. "Stay away…Don't…don't you call me that!" _

"_Daddy I found a dog…"_

"_Don't call me that!" he screamed before turning towards the corner to retch again. His speech was slurred. "You'd'nt I d'nt even know if you're mine. Gets gone!" He yelled. _

_Eyes wide, the girl ran to the front door. "But…but I…"_

"_I don't want you any more!"_

_The girl threw open the door, and ran outside. She tried honestly to stop from crying, hold the sobs inside of her. A tan, black and brown flecked dog ran from its bed in the stables to her side. The puppy was just starting to reach adolescence. She licked the tears from her master's face. "Daddy says it's not good to cry, Derra." She told the dog. _

"_Daddy says a lot of things aren't good." She stopped, drying her face on Derra's fur. _

"_Maybe Daddy's not good."_

_The hail was pelting down on her, so she ducked into the stables. Readying her horse's saddle, she wondered dimly where she would go. She didn't want to stay any longer…but where could she go? _

"_Doesn't matter." She said, "wherever I want." And she hopped into her saddle. The old mare whinnied in confusion as the young girl steered her into the hail. _

_With Derra trotting briskly behind her, the young girl set out to the south- east. She'd never been there, and there were no mountains for as far as she could see…_

"Surely if I could sleep I would see better dreams." Elffhelm sighed as she removed her helm and armor. It was more than likely the last night of her life and she still couldn't sleep.

Thanks for the reviews orchdork18. and yes, i have seen the princess bride. lol thats why I put it in there...


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